


Helias and Pyrrhus

by ThreeSidedOrchid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Regency, Victorian, a/b - Freeform, a/o, unrelated Dean/John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeSidedOrchid/pseuds/ThreeSidedOrchid
Summary: Omega Dean is invited to a house party at the home of his friend Sam Winchester. But who is the mysterious Helias, and how much should Dean let it influence his choices?





	Helias and Pyrrhus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theatregirl7299](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatregirl7299/gifts).



> Gift fic for Theatregirl7299 in the 2018 SPN_J2_XMAS exchange on livejournal.
> 
> I have never, ever attempted to write anything like this particular story before and I struggled a lot with it. I don't know how successful I was, and I may revise it later on, but I really hope any readers enjoy it.  
> \--
> 
> I also do not have a beta willing to read a/b/o works in this fandom, so please be aware this is unbetaed and all mistakes are my own. If someone would like to help read for spelling/grammar errors, it would be very much appreciated.

Chapter 1

“We're almost there.” 

“Really?” Kevin sits up at Castiel's announcement. “HC, full window.”

Around them, the roof and sides shift, opaque white dissipating like fog to reveal a 360 view.

Tristan three is a young, modern world, geoscaped into eye-pleasing patterns of blues and greens below them. Facing the back, Dean can see the city, with its towering skyscrapers, has dwindled to a glittering flower on the horizon. 

“There,” Castiel points to a spot over Dean's shoulder. “You can just see the house, beyond those hills.”

“Oh! Oh, it _is_ grand!” Kevin exclaims, leaning improperly into Castiel's space to see. Catching himself, he sits back on the plush velvet bench.

Dean is certain it is, though his back is to the view. Winchester hall is well-renowned as one of the grandest homes in the system.

“How fortunate we are that Sam counts us among his close friends.” Castiel is, perhaps, the least affected by anticipation, raised in a family of high standing and more reserved by nature. 

Then too, Dean thinks, Castiel's future does not hinge on the success of this visit. For him, a suitable match, even a career if he chooses, are easily obtained. Dean's future is far less secure, with no claim to name or money.

“More than fortunate!” Kevin agrees.

“More than friends, for one of us, I think.”

Pulling at the cuffs of his dark coat, Kevin shakes his head. 

“Come now, it's no secret he favors you. I wager we'll be celebrating a mating before the end of the season.” From anyone else, it might have been a tease, but from Castiel it is all dry observation.

“I would be very lucky.” Kevin demurs, eyes down and cheeks pink. 

He is ever honest, intelligent and kind, and Dean wishes he were anything else, that Kevin had some despicable trait to justify the bitter nut of jealousy in his breast. This, he reminds himself, is why Sam favors Kevin instead of him, it is _his_ character that is flawed. But knowing he is undeserving of the alpha's affections doesn't stop his longing.

Dean's eyes catch Castiel's, and the sympathy he find's in the other omega's gaze makes him turn his head away.

Their talk turns to the plans for this evening's ball. Lost in his own thoughts, Dean stares out the window, watching the land speed by below. As such, he is the first to go breathless when the HC turns for its final approach.

A lawn of brilliant green stretches in front of the house, three fountains laid like giant stepping stones across it. Sculptures in sun-drenched marble sit at the center of each, though Dean cannot distinguish their design from this height.  
The hall itself is massive, a sprawling angle of white stone. Dean's fingers itch with the desire to touch the intricate stonework, to run his hands over it and learn every crevice. It's beautiful, filling him with a sense of happy wonder that he will have the entire fortnight to explore. 

Their HC sets down behind the alphas' at the foot of the front steps. They wait, watching as the rest of their companions disembark and make their way over. 

“Welcome!” Sam's long coat swings as he lifts open the HC door. Some of his hair has escaped its queue in the long travel, the rebellious strands framing his jaw. He smiles at them all before offering his palm to Kevin.

Gabriel, Castiel's cousin and friend, aids him out next. It's Michael who offers his hand to Dean, and he supposes he's grateful it is not that blowhard Raphael (what virtue Sam sees in him Dean does not know).

“A pleasant view, wasn't it?” Michael asks, smiling as Dean steps down onto the dirt drive. 

“Lovely.” It's not a lie, but Dean makes it sound like one, somehow reluctant to admit his enjoyment of the landscape to Michael. Perhaps it is his stiff manner, his dark hair always sicked back, collar starched, and never saying a word that is not proper and predictable. 

Perhaps it is the way his hand holds Dean's a second too long.

A long, low whistle from Gabriel draws their attention. “Wow, Sam, not bad.” 

“Thank you,” Sam leads the way up the front steps, long legs taking them two at a time. “Please, come in!”

The foyer is no less impressive than the outside. Golden light spills in from a domed glass roof, shining on the marble floor. To their left a staircase curls upwards, but it is not what pulls the eye. In the middle of the room, wooden pillars encircle a sunken atrium, ferns and other fauna giving teasing glimpses of a small fountain and bench nestled at the center.

“Oh.” Castiel says softly, his tone confusing Dean until he looks up to find that from the top of each pillar extends the figure of an omega, bare breast thrust proudly forward.

“Ah,” Sam runs a hand over his hair, failing to hide his embarrassment. “I'm sorry, I should have warned you. My father's tastes are a little... unusual. It's not – they're--”

“Ship figureheads,” Dean fills, looking to the sculptures. Modern vessels don't have them, but he recalls reading about them in one of his classes. 

“Yes! Yes, antiques. He had them salvaged and restored.”

“They're very beautiful.” He offers, buoyant under Sam's grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Straightening his shoulders, Sam continues. “ _House_ , these are my guests until further notice.”

The soft vibration of the lifeband on Dean's wrist confirms the house has linked them.

“Right then, follow me and we'll get you all settled.” Sam leads them up the stairs. “I won't do the full tour, but the dinning room is just on the other side of the atrium. We're on standard speech protocols, so if you need anything just ask house.”

The second floor opens into a long, narrow sitting room furnished in warm reds and golds.

“Omega guest rooms are in the east wing,” Sam gestures, “Alphas' to the west. Select which room you like and let house know. I'm sure everyone would like to rest before this evening, so we haven't planned anything this afternoon, but refreshments are available on request. Please, make yourselves at home.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Michael says, quickly echoed by the others. 

They separate again, the alphas heading to the left corridor. Dean and Castiel cross the sitting room to their wing. If he casts a look back to see Kevin still speaking quietly with Sam, well, only the pang in his heart tells.

Castiel takes the first room in the hall. The second is tastefully appointed with pale blue walls and oak furniture. Gauzy drapes on the four, tall windows filter the sunlight, giving the room an airy, fresh feel.

“House,” he says, sliding the door closed behind him. “I'll take this room.” 

_Thank you, Omega Campbell._ the AI confirms. _Winchester house uses standard guest security. Is there anyone else you'd like to grant free access to?_

“Not today.”

_Noted. Your luggage is here, may it enter? ___

__“Yes.” Removing his overcoat is a relief. Despite being his light weight summer coat, it feels stuffy after the day of travel._ _

__The door slides open, admitting the cart so it can lower his luggage to the floor. Dean watches it leave and then stands there, breathing._ _

__Trying to convince himself this is real._ _

__When he'd received the scholarship to Lawrence University four years ago, he had expected to spend every waking moment with his head in his books. He'd expected the derogatory remarks from the wealthy, upper class students, the challenge of proving himself equal to them by doing better than them._ _

__He hadn't expected to be welcomed by a tall, chestnut haired alpha in his first year. To become close friends. That Sam Winchester was heir to one of the richest families in the system never mattered to Dean as much as the kindness he'd shown. He'd taught Dean the etiquette expected in high society, invited him into his social circle._ _

__And now here, to his home._ _

__A ball and two weeks together before they all must don the mantle of adulthood. One last hurrah, Sam had called it._ _

__Though they all know it's more than that. A house party means introductions to potential employers, or mates. To attend a Winchester house party...for Dean, it is an opportunity so far beyond his normal reach he is half convinced whatever good fortune he's allotted in life will be used up by this one event._ _

__He cannot afford to waste it. He must use these days to secure connections, or, when he dares to hope, an internship. Even if, he thinks with a wry twist of his lips, that means having to exchange his body for a position. It's not spoken about in polite company, but even those on the lower rungs of society know that unmated omegas who want to work anything other than a wager's job are often expected to give favors to their alpha employers._ _

__For many omegas, an education and work are nothing more than a step en route to securing a better match. That's not what Dean wants – he wants a mate, some day, but he wants to work too, to see every planet in this system and the next, to _make_ something. And he'll do what he must to get there. Resolved, Dean opens his suitcase._ _

__==_ _

__Chapter 2_ _

__“May I have this dance?”_ _

__Dean smiles, offering his hand so the alpha can lead them onto the dance floor._ _

__The patio of Winchester hall is large, serving tonight as their ballroom. The back doors, that would normally open onto the patio, have been closed off and the musicians set on the small, wide steps there. Garlands of lanterns, decorated with fragrant greenery and flowers, cross-cross above their heads. Higher up, a black tent roof stretches over them, invisible now that night has fallen. On one side, stretching between two staircases leading down to a greenhouse and the rest of the gardens below, is a long balustrade. Buffet tables heavy with food and drink are pushed up against it. Bots dart about, refilling the refreshments, collecting empty glasses and plates._ _

__Earlier, when Dean had found his way down with the others, it had almost looked too big a space. But then HC after HC had begun arriving, depositing guests only here for the evening, and the space had quickly filled._ _

__It's rather freeing, to be somewhat anonymous in the crush. Of course Dean knows the others from their group, and they him, but beyond that he knows no one, and there are no introductions made. Already he has danced with five alphas he could not name. His partner now is a tall, thin alpha in a garish, gold brocade tailcoat, red velvet vest, and a full holo-mask displaying a traditional jester. For all his mask denotes a lively, humorous personality, it is clearly a fitting costume as the alpha seems rather stiff, and disinclined to talk._ _

__They bow to each other when the dance ends and Dean makes his way over to where Sam, Kevin and Castiel stand near the punch._ _

__Sam smiles as he approaches. Unlike most of the guests, his mask is minimal – a simple blue band across his eyes – making him easily recognizable to all as their host tonight. “Are you having a good time?”_ _

__“Of course!” Dean picks up a glass of punch, sipping at it slower than his parched throat would prefer while the others continue their conversation._ _

__“Has your father not arrived yet?” Castiel asks Sam. He has been in high demand tonight, looking rather regal in his black and gold striped velvet coat. Like Dean and Sam, he wears a traditional mask in black with curling gold antennae extending above his ears._ _

__“No, he's still delayed at work. I'm afraid he may not be able to greet you until brunch tomorrow. His guests for our house party have all arrived, though.”_ _

__“How funny to think we may have already danced with them and not known it!” Kevin's fox mask is so realistically rendered that it is a bit disconcerting to see the jaw move and Kevin's voice come out. The holo-masks may be more comfortable than their traditional counterparts, with only a small headband housing the projection device and chip to wear, but Dean prefers the classic masks for just this reason._ _

__His own costume is of Pyrrhus, the mythical omega that stole fire from the sun god Helias and brought it to humanity. He's modeled it after classic images of thieves; tight black trousers and a long black tunic trimmed with embroidery in a flame design of shimmering reds and yellows. He wears a half-mask in black, molded and textured to resemble pocked and broken lava stone, with ribbons of red glowing lights in the cracks. It is far more comfortable than modern suits with their layers of coat, shirt, and vest in heavy fabrics, and Dean is rather proud of his choice, though none have guessed who he is without explanation._ _

__They chat for a few minutes before Sam must excuse himself to play host. Not long after that, Dean is invited to dance by a broad-shouldered alpha in a wolf's mask, and then another dressed as a prince. Breathless by the end of the end of the next dance, Dean excuses himself to down another cup of punch. He stands at the far corner of the buffet, at the top of one of the curved staircases. The cooler air, the open darkness just beyond the dizzying lights and sound, the press of bodies and heat of the ball, tempt him to step out. The overcast sky brings cool air that is more than welcome on his overheated skin. A chaperon hovers up with a hum of white noise. The white sphere settles into place a little above and behind his right shoulder, following him down the stairs._ _

__At the bottom, a small rose garden sits in the curved embrace of the stairways, faced by the greenhouse. He wanders through, fingers brushing gently over the blossoms. Their color is indeterminable, but Dean prefers the idea of rediscovering them in the day to asking the chaperon for a light._ _

__Circling around, he's passing in front of the greenhouse when a burst of low laughter sounds, too close to be carried from the ball. Two figures are coming down the stairs, just visible in the pale glow of their own chaperon._ _

__Without thinking, Dean ducks inside the greenhouse. He's not sure why he's hiding himself away, but the thought doesn't make him step out and announce himself. Instead, he watches through the glass as the couple follows his same path into the garden. One of the people is taller, and Dean's heart sinks when their chaperon's light hits just the right angle to make the figure clear. It shouldn't be any surprise that Sam has chosen to take a companion out onto the grounds of his own home, but it still hurts to watch him wrap his arms around someone else. _Not Someone. Kevin_ Dean thinks, angry at his own reluctance to acknowledge what is right in front of him._ _

__Immersed in their own distractions, none of them notice the low grumble of thunder. It's only when the first warning drops begin to tap down that Sam's head lifts to the sky in realization. Grabbing Kevin's hand, the two dash back to the ball as the rain begins to pour. It falls fast, obscuring Dean's view before the pair has made it up the stairs._ _

__“Young Winchester wears his heart so far out on his sleeve, I'm afraid he's often oblivious to the feelings of those who don't.”_ _

__Dean spins around, heart racing, to find an alpha standing several feet away. Alerted by his fear, his chaperon darts between them with a warning beep and a flare of light._ _

__“My apologies,” The man says, palms raised. “I didn't mean to startle you.”_ _

__He's taller and broader than Dean. Dressed for the ball in dark velvet pants, a blue silk vest and cream shirt, topped with a brocade coat of blues and greens. His full holo mask displays a stylized golden face, all smooth planes and sharp angles like the historic imaginings of androids. Dean suspects it has a voice modification chip too, given the faint robotic twang when he speaks._ _

__“It's fine, I wasn't paying attention.” Dean's glad when the chaperon calms, hovering up above them again and dimming the light to more tolerable levels._ _

__The man glances outside. “A summer storm, it will pass quickly. I've a small repast set up, if you'd care to join me until it stops.”_ _

__Dean bows his head, “I'd appreciate that. Ome-”_ _

__“Let's set aside introductions for tonight, shall we? Keeping in the spirit of the masque.”_ _

__“Of course.” Dean nods. “Shall I call you Alpha goldface, then?” he asks._ _

__The alpha's lips twitch. “I could be the Helias to your Pyrrhus. I do like what you've done with him.”_ _

__“You're the first to recognize it.” He's pleased _someone_ has. Dean follows the alpha further into the greenhouse. The air is humid and warm, rich with the scent of earth. Wayward leaves reach out to brush them as they pass through the narrow rows._ _

__“Understandable. Most images render him the light-footed Omega sneaking fire from the gods when opportunity presents.”_ _

__The rest area is cozy, with an ironwork bench overhung by glossy, large-leafed plants and warmly lit by the candlelight of hanging lanterns. A mossy topped table boasts a bottle of champagne, glass, and small assortment of cut fruits._ _

__They sit at opposite ends of the bench, a nod to decorum in too small a space for true propriety._ _

__“But I've always thought him stronger than that, more defiant warrior than dainty upstart.” The alpha continues, retrieving another flute from a cabinet in the table and pouring Dean a glass._ _

__“Thank you, Alpha Helias,” Dean says, honest if a bit cheeky. Taking a sip, he watches the alpha chuckle. “I take it you're close to the Winchesters.”_ _

__“You could say. And you, fresh from Lawrence with Sam I gather.”_ _

__“You gathered more than that, before.”_ _

__“I did. He's a fool.”_ _

__Dean smiles ruefully. “You don't know that. Respectfully, we haven't even been introduced. Sam hasn't chosen unwisely.”_ _

__“Perhaps, but you must be intelligent to have made it through Lawrence, and your choice of costume speaks of an omega worth getting to know. It suits you very well, too.”_ _

__Trying to hide his blush, Dean takes another sip of the champagne. “You flatter me.”_ _

__“Those trousers flatter you.”_ _

__Now his blush is impossible to hide. He meets the alpha's gaze and feels a shiver at the patient desire he finds looking back. Relaxed, leaning back against the corner of the bench, glass dangling from his fingers, the alpha is a picture of calm confidence, and Dean can't deny the appeal of it._ _

__“Are you enjoying the ball?”_ _

__“I've never seen anything grander. It's beautiful.” Dean mirrors the man's position, right arm resting over the back of the bench casually, their hands inches apart._ _

__“But a little overwhelming?”_ _

__“What makes you say that?”_ _

__“You're here, instead of up there.”_ _

__“You are too observant.” Dean murmurs._ _

__“And too blunt, I fear. It's a flaw.” He leans forward, pouring himself another glass. “More?”_ _

__“Please.” Their fingers brush as he takes the glass, and Dean is fairly certain it's no mistake. “So, you are here because the other guests repudiated your curt manners and drove you from the ball in shame.”_ _

__The alpha smiles at that, glass tipping in mock toast. “Precisely. You've caught me out, and caught yourself down here with the reject.”_ _

__Dean pretends to ponder their surroundings for long seconds before turning back, letting his eyes linger over the alpha's form. “Doesn't seem like such a bad place to be caught to me.”_ _

__“Maybe,” the alpha says, hand touching Dean's on the back of the bench, “you'll allow me to entertain you a bit longer, then.”_ _

__His fingers slide over Dean's wrist, slipping down beneath the lifeband with a touch that makes pleasure skitter across his skin. It's the proper way to express interest in a dalliance. Castiel had told him that, the other omega teaching Dean the social practices that Sam could not. Knotting outside of mating is severely frowned on, but anything else is fair game so long as one is discreet about it._ _

__He could reject it just by pulling his hand away and nothing need ever be said. Maybe it is the campaign, or the illusion of anonymity and freedom the masque grants, but Dean doesn't want to say no. Not tonight._ _

__Extending his own fingers, Dean grazes the alpha's wrist in acceptance._ _

__Leaning forward again, Helias places his glass on the table, hand coming up without pause to curve against Dean's jaw and draw him forward. Dean goes willingly, closing his eyes as their mouths touch. The alpha's palm is warm, his lips soft but demanding as they move against Dean's. He has a beard, hidden behind the mask that tickles Dean's cheeks when he angles his head to deepen the kiss. They trade kisses for long minutes, the soft wet sounds the only noise save the patter of rain outside.  
Helias' thumbs stroke over Dean's throat before he drops one hand down to curl over Dean's hip and draw him closer. Taking the cue, Dean shifts to straddle the alpha's lap, and oh, that is _much_ better. He can feel the thick, hard line of the alpha's cock against his smaller one through the layers of their pants and it pushes a rush of slick to his hole. With a groan, Helias pulls their mouths apart, tilting Dean's head back so that he can suck and bite at his throat. Dean ruts against him slowly, with firm, tight circles of his hips until the alpha slides one hand down the back of his pants, palm curling against Dean's ass and fingers circling over his wet hole. _ _

__“Fuck, alpha,” Dean breathes, claiming Helias' mouth in a desperate kiss, gripping the back of the bench._ _

__“Like that?” he rumbles._ _

__“Don't tease me.” Dean admonishes, placing kisses down the alpha's jaw and onto his throat, nipping when the alpha chuckles in the response._ _

__“Never.” And then he is sinking two fingers into Dean, making him gasp, his body pushing back instinctively, seeking more._ _

__Dean loses track of himself. There is the firm press of the alpha's hand at the back of his neck, the panting, damp breaths passing between their open mouths, and the slow slide out and return of Helias' fingers inside him, finger fucking him open in a way that sends pleasure buzzing through his whole body, dancing over his skin like electricity. He knows he's moving, knows he's moaning and pleading for more, but it all blurs together. Dean thinks he's going to come, can feel it building up inside and in the insistent pressure of his dick still trapped in his pants. He thinks he warns the alpha, but then everything goes white and he is arching back with a cry._ _

__Panting, body still but blood racing, Dean kisses the alpha, feeling his fingers slip from his body as he does._ _

__“Beautiful omega,” Helias murmurs against his mouth._ _

__Dean reaches down, fingers tracing the still-hard line of the alpha's cock before fumbling to undo the zip._ _

__“Oh, beautiful, _sweet_ omega,” the alpha praises, lips flickering a smile against Dean's. “Will you stroke me?” he asks, hips shifting as Dean takes the hot length of his cock in hand. _ _

__He's huge, thick and gorgeous, and Dean smiles a little as he noses up along the alpha's jaw to nip at his ear. “I think I can do better than that.”_ _

__Sliding down, he slips onto his knees on the floor. He leans forward, licking over the glistening tip of the alpha's cock in a quick stroke that earns him a burst of salty pre-come and a hissed _yes_ from the alpha. Dean doesn't tease, he takes the head into his mouth and sucks, tongue swirling along the sensitive underside. He slides forward as far as he can, saliva and pre-come flooding his mouth, before drawing back. Helias' hands go to his head, fingers pushing through his short hair and guiding Dean forward again. Dean loves it – loves the heavy, hot weight of the alpha's cock in his mouth, loves the way Helias pulls and pushes Dean, never forcing, but setting the pace he wants. He fingers the soft skin at the base of the alpha's cock, encouraging the soft moans above, hoping he can get it to fill, to knot, as taboo as that would be, just the idea of it makes him slick again. _ _

__Palm sliding easily up and down the length, Dean holds back on the next stroke, looking up at the panting alpha. “Come on alpha, let me taste you.”_ _

__Helias says nothing, but presses Dean's head forward again, further than before until Dean's lips are stretched wide and he can feel the head of the alpha's cock at the back of his throat. He groans, hearing an answering one from above at the vibration it creates, and slides back just enough to breathe before going down again. He keeps at it, taking the alpha slow and deep, swallowing around the tip until he feels the alpha's fingers tighten in his hair and hold him there, thick come spilling into his mouth as Helias comes in near silence. He swallows as much as he can, but some spills at the corners of his mouth. When the alpha's cock is soft, exhausted, Dean pulls off, moving to wipe at mouth._ _

__“Don't.” The alpha tucks himself away quickly, reaching down to draw Dean back up onto his lap. He kisses Dean again, tongue licking every trace away in thanks._ _

__When they part, Helias studies him, fingers trailing over Dean's scalp, across his jaw, over his swollen lips._ _

__“I cannot let you go back to the ball like this.” He says, sounding only a little apologetic. “All of society would know what we've done and half the alpha's would want a go with you right there.”_ _

__“Only half?” Dean raises an eyebrow._ _

__“The other half would be willing to wait for a more private location.”_ _

__“I see.” He smiles, relaxed and content._ _

__“Come, I'll walk you to the side door – you'll be able to get back to your room without being spotted from there.”_ _

__

__==_ _

__Chapter 3_ _

__Dean wakes with the sun, hours before brunch will be served, too anxious to stay in bed._ _

__“House, I'd like to go for a run. Can you suggest a route on the grounds?” He asks as he dresses._ _

___Of course, Omega Campbell, there are several paths that meet the parameters of your regular regime. Would you like me display the details?_ _ _

__“No, thank you, any of them will be fine.”_ _

__When he opens the door a few minutes later, a chaperon hovers waiting. He follows it downstairs and out the front, kicking into a light jog as it leads him down the length of the grassy lawn in front of the house. The morning is cool, drowsy sunlight still rousing frost from the shadows.  
Now that he's closer, he can see the sculptures on the ponds are ships. The first and last are ancient sea vessels with sails puffed out. The middle is a more familiar sight, a modern cruise ship, meant for space instead of water, of the line that made the Winchester name famous. It wasn't the first to set sail in the skies, that was well over a hundred years ago, but John Winchester's ships had brought an elegance to them that was unheard of before._ _

__At the end of the yard the trail continues into a wood. Dean picks up his pace to a run, following the chaperon whenever the path forks._ _

__Shaded beneath leafy green, the trail takes him on a picturesque tour around curves and over small hills. Delicate wildflowers line the edges of streams and great mossy rocks rise up between the trees, all of it dappled in sunlight. It is enchanting, no stretch without something engaging for the eye. Dean feels he could spend hours here, breathing in the scent of fresh earth and honeysuckle._ _

__It's almost with regret when the time comes for him to turn back, but the trail is just as pleasant on the return._ _

__Lost in his thoughts, focusing on his breathing past the burn in his lungs and legs in the last sprint, Dean rounds a curve and nearly runs into an alpha that stands stretching on the path._ _

__“Oh!” He stops, sneakers skidding on the dirt. “I'm sorry, Alpha, I didn't see you.”_ _

__“No apology needed, Omega--?”_ _

__“Dean Campbell.” Dean takes in the alpha as they shake hands. He's tall, broad shouldered but lean, older than Dean, with a short, neatly trimmed beard, dark hair and heavy brows capping deep hazel eyes._ _

__“John Winchester. You're one of Sam's friends.”_ _

__“I am. It's a pleasure to be welcomed to your home, Alpha Winchester.” What an embarrassment to have to introduce himself, covered in sweat no less. Not that Alpha Winchester is in a much better state. He's clearly been out for a run as well, track pants slung low on his hips and shirt damp. His scent is strong in the air, and Dean blushes to know his must be too._ _

__“I've interrupted your run.”_ _

__“I'm fairly sure some of the fault rests with my inattention.”_ _

__“Well, fairly sure is not fully sure. Let me walk with you back to the house, in case there are any other unprepared alphas on the path.”_ _

__Dean blushes, but it's clear Winchester means nothing by it but a genial tease. “Of course, Alpha.”_ _

__Chattering birds fill the air as they walk._ _

__“What was your focus at Lawrence?”_ _

__“Architecture and design,” he hesitates, “and geoscaping.”_ _

__“Both? That must have been quite the challenge.”_ _

__“I felt I could not do one without the other. We have the technology to merge the outside and the inside in incredible ways, yet we still cling to traditional divisions like children at their first school dance.”_ _

__“You intend to change that? Shock the system with sights never seen before - only Campbell designs shall be accepted by society and my home here relegated to little more than an antiquated curiosity.” Winchester says as they step out from the wood._ _

__“You tease me, Alpha.” Dean answers with false affront, before answering seriously. “I make no claims that my work is unlike anything seen before. I hope to create spaces that are interesting, beautiful, and functional, nothing more.”_ _

__“I do tease you, and you don't deserve it. Will you forgive me, Omega Campbell?” His tone is playing, a thread of hidden laughter just underneath._ _

__“I shall consider it.” Dean sniffs haughtily, eyeing the alpha and enjoying the smile it earns him. He isn't sure what he expected Sam's father to be – reserved, maybe, like Michael, and demanding, based on Sam's occasional complaints – but this is not it. The alpha isn't improper, but there is an easiness to his manner that is relaxing._ _

__They reach the house quickly. Winchester stops at the base of the stairs, one hand curling over the banister. “I believe the danger from unwary guests has passed. I will see you at brunch.”_ _

__Dean nods his head in thanks, turning to walk up the steps._ _

__“Oh, Omega Campbell?”_ _

__“Alpha?”_ _

__“Did you enjoy the ball?”_ _

__“Very much,” Dean says, memory flashing to the greenhouse. “Seeing everyone in costume, it was quite the vision.”_ _

__Winchester only nods in acknowledgment and Dean continues on. He's too far away to be certain, but thinks he hears a softly uttered _“A vision indeed”_ follow him up._ _

__

__Chapter 4_ _

__“I'm famished.” Castiel greets in the sitting room an hour later. Dean, freshly showered and still doing up the silver buttons of his dark gray day suit, glances back towards their hall._ _

__“Should we wait for Kevin?”_ _

__Glaring at him with the intensity of a wet cat, Cas reiterates, “ _Famished._ ” _ _

__“Alright,” Dean laughs, linking his arm with the other omega's. “Let's go get you some food.”_ _

__They find the rest of the party already there. Alpha Winchester is seated at the head of the long table, Sam to his right. Kevin is next to Sam, but Michael, Raphael and Gabriel are spread out at the table, mixed in with a number of guests Dean doesn't know.  
A buffet is set against one wall with an assortment of offerings laid out. Two men stand at it, chatting with half-full plates in hand._ _

__“Good morning!” Sam smiles, bright and open as always._ _

__For a second, he is all Dean sees._ _

__“These are my friends, Omegas Castiel Novak and Dean Campbell,” Sam says to the others. “Castiel, Dean, allow me to introduce my father, Alpha John Winchester, and his guests; Alphas Balthazar Angel, Lucifer Milton, Benny Lafitte, and Cain Abelkill; and Omegas Chuck Edlund and Fergus Crowley.”_ _

__Sam gestures to each with the introductions, and there are polite nods all around. “Please, help yourselves to breakfast, we aren't standing on ceremony this morning.”_ _

__Castiel pulls Dean by their still linked arms, hurrying them over to the buffet so quickly, Dean barely has time to utter a “thank you”._ _

___The two men, Omega Crowley and Alpha Angel, move their conversation politely aside to let them through. Omega Crowley is one face Dean recognizes, though they've never met. Crowley is routinely a subject of talk, being a wealthy, unmated omega rather vocal about staying that way. He'd gone into trade some decades ago and apparently never looked back. Nearly Dean's height, he's solidly built with heavier features and dark, knowing eyes._  
Alpha Angel Dean has never heard of. He is whippet thin with blond hair, and stands with a kind of sinuous grace that is more often seen in omegas than alphas.  
Dean catches both letting their gazes linger on his clothes, though not quite long enough to be considered rude. It's not unexpected – every penny Dean has would not be enough to buy any other suit in the room. His wardrobe is not poor by common standards, he'd made sure of that before coming, but the disparity is still obvious. There is nothing he can do about it, so Dean pretends he does not see the looks. 

__Plates full, they find their seats – Castiel between Michael and Omega Edlund, Dean towards the end of the table, between Alphas Milton and Abelkill._ _

__“So,” Alpha Milton says, slicing neatly through his sausage. “I hear you already met our host this morning?”_ _

__Lucifer Milton is of average build, with dull blue eyes that make Dean uncomfortable. His cream suit is well cut, but doesn't flatter his coloring, leaving him looking cold and a little sickly._ _

__“Yes, we came across each other by chance this morning on one of the trails. I fear I nearly ran Alpha Winchester over.”_ _

__“By chance. Of course. How... what is the term? Meet cute.”_ _

__A few seats down, Raphael snickers._ _

__It takes Dean some seconds to think of an appropriate response to the barb, and before he can, Alpha Abelkill rescues him by asking about the trail itself._ _

__Cain Abelkill also has pale blue eyes, but that is where his similarities to Lucifer end. Dark, sharp brows and a great beak of a nose might seem ridiculous on another face, but with his beard and long, silver-streaked hair, there is something appealing in his look. He seems kind, but weary, his words drawn out with slow thoughtfulness._ _

__The conversation remains the tedious chit-chat that is necessary to polite society. Looking around the table, he cannot help but wonder who his Helias is. Dean is no blushing virgin, but it is infinitely strange to think that he had his lips round the cock of one of these alphas, that the same fingers so recently inside him are now buttering toast or lifting a cup._ _

__He'd thought it would be easier to tell, to know his partner without the mask, but the memory of last night is dream-like, distant now, and he cannot be sure. There are few potential candidates, he thinks. Only Winchester, Lafitte, Michael, and Abelkill have the right build. Dean knows it was not Michael, and Winchester was not present, leaving only Lafitte and Abelkill._ _

__Or Helias was only a guest for the masque, already long gone._ _

__It's a silly thing to bother thinking on, Dean tells himself firmly. It was only a brief dalliance, best relegated to a memory revisited on lonely nights and nothing more. He has more important things to focus on._ _

__==_ _

__Dean stares up at the great, black beast before him._ _

__“Have you never ridden a horse before?”_ _

__He turns, finding Alpha Lafitte standing close in his blue riding clothes. After brunch, the entire party had agreed to take a horseback tour of the grounds, separating to change into their riding gear before grouping out in the stables._ _

__“Once,” Dean admits, aiming for humor. “When I was very small, I think, on a school trip.”_ _

__“Well,” Lafitte says, smiling amiably. “It's easy. I saw you already greeted her properly, so you're not going to startle her. That's good. Next we just need to get you in the saddle. Go on and grip here, and here.” Lafitte demonstrates as he speaks, Dean following suit after him._ _

__“Good, place your left foot in the stirrup. Now, just lift and swing your right leg over her.”_ _

__Dean lands with a thump in the seat, startling a bit when the horse takes a step in reaction. “Um. Thank you. Now what?”_ _

__Lafitte laughs, his deep voice rather pleasant. “Now I get on my own and then we worry about moving.”_ _

__The others have already mounted up, Dean can see them gathered outside waiting. Mounting his own horse quickly, Lafitte draws up next to him._ _

__“Take the reigns here. Just hold them loose if you're not trying to get her to do something. You're gonna give her a little tap with your heels to get her walking, and after that it's cake. Except when she wants to eat.”_ _

__They make it out to join the rest of the group, trailing behind as they amble through the various fields and woods of the estate. It's far bigger than Dean ever realized, and seems to go on as far as he can see. Lafitte stays by his side the entire time, providing direction on how to manage the horse and making conversation between. Alpha Abelkill joins them a good portion of the time, seeming to be close friends already with Lafitte. Dean learns Lafitte is a restaurateur, that he knows Alpha Winchester because he manages several independent restaurants on their ships, and that he is has never been mated. Abelkill turns out to be retired military, now running a private security firm, and widowed._ _

__It is, all in all, a good afternoon._ _

__==_ _

__“This is delicious, Alpha Winchester.” Castiel says, prompting a chorus of nods and affirmations from the rest of the table._ _

__Dinner is more formal than brunch, with place cards and three courses. The meal is good, but Dean is simply thankful for the fact that he's seated midway down the table between Michael and Alpha Angel, away from Raphael and Lucifer._ _

__“Thank you, I will be sure to pass your complements on to the chefs.”_ _

__“You have chefs?” Michael asks, surprise poorly hidden._ _

__“Our host,” Balthazar answers, “believes there are three things best left to humans--”_ _

__“Art, music, and food,” John supplies with a smile. “A machine may replicate a painting, song, or recipe perfectly, but sometimes it's the imperfections that make them perfect.”_ _

__“Hear, hear,” agrees Omega Edlund quietly._ _

__Dean's gaze catches Sam's and the alpha rolls his eyes. It's not what Dean expected. He's inclined to agree with alpha Winchester himself, and would have thought Sam felt the same._ _

__“How eccentric,” Lucifer says. “To keep wagers on your domestic payroll, not just business, must be a fascinating experience.”_ _

__Raphael smirks, “I'm sure Dean could give us some perspective on the matter, from the other side of course.”_ _

__Lucifer turns to him, brows raised, and the prickly heat of embarrassed anger swells over Dean's skin. _Damn Raphael._ This is none of their business, but he cannot allow his anger to get the best of him. Taking a slow breath in, he reminds himself there is nothing that can be said here that he has not already heard._ _

__“My omega wagers in a restaurant. It is an honest day's work that kept us in food and shelter after my alpha father passed, not much different than the work anyone at this table does.”_ _

__“Oh, now really.” Lucifer scoffs, setting down his silverware with a clink. “No offense to your omega, but the wager system is merely charity in the guise of work. Unnecessary jobs to keep the masses busy. _We_ lead an innovate, _our_ jobs cannot be done by machines.”_ _

__“Yet.”_ _

__“Excuse me?”_ _

__“I believe what Dean means, Alpha Milton, is that wagers are just people, doing their best.”_ _

__It wasn't exactly what Dean meant, or not entirely, but he smiles gratefully at Sam for the support regardless._ _

__“And let us not forget,” Lafitte adds, sipping at his wine, “that we are all enjoying the spoils of their labor right now.”_ _

__That successfully changes the topic. Dean glances around the table, anxious of the impact his words and the revelation about his family will have his standing with the others. But, as dinner continues, he can sense no difference in how anyone treats him, and the tension slowly ebbs from his limbs._ _

__

__Chapter 5_ _

__Over breakfast the next morning most of the party opts to spend the day on a tasting tour of some of the nearby wineries. Dean knows he should accept, but declines, needing some time to himself._ _

__He finds a portrait hall near the dining room. The long, narrow room is lined on one side with windows overlooking the rolling fields behind the house. The other three walls showcase portraits of the Winchesters. At least, Dean presumes they are all Winchesters._ _

__Sam's portrait is almost irreverent, showing him sprawled on a chair, loose-limned and open, a book dangling from his fingers. He looks out with an expression of challenge on his young features, as if daring the viewer for interrupting his reading._ _

__Alpha Winchester's is completely different. He's younger in it, leaning against the open door of one of his ships, relaxed, but not off guard. There is something amused in his expression, his eyes seeming to laugh like he knows a secret the viewer does not._ _

__Dean spends long minutes standing before both portraits before moving on._ _

__At that the other end of the gallery, an open door leads to the library. Without the giant picture window at center, the two-story room would have felt stuffy. It is a riot of dark, ornately carved wood, from the railings that circle the upper level to the spiral staircases at either end, and the frames of the reading chairs and tables._ _

__Dean runs his fingers over some of the carvings, the polished wood sleek and cool to the touch. He can see the grain, a trait machine printed wood lacks, and is reminded of the conversation last night. He looks at the woodwork with renewed awe; it must have taken the wagers hundreds of hours._ _

__Picking one of the more comfortable looking chairs, Dean spends some time catching up on the more recent trade journals he missed in the rushed last months of school. He intends to continue them but one article sparks an idea that will not be ignored. Getting up, Dean moves to a work table._ _

__“House,” he murmurs, “open Winchester house exterior in Design.”_ _

__When the holo display pops up, Dean zooms in to the front lawn, sweeping the house and other features away. He deletes two of the ponds and expands the third, changing it over to a swimming pool._ _

__He works, uncaring of the sunlight shifting across the floor, the lengthening shadows._ _

__“Already remaking my home to your whims I see.”_ _

__“You'll love it.” Dean says dismissively, pretending he knows how long the alpha has been watching. Pretending the sudden flutter of anxiety in his breast is not there._ _

__Winchester comes to stand beside him. “Of that I've no doubts.”_ _

__He watches Dean work a moment before raising his hand to draw his finger along the edge of the pool, the holo display flickering around his fingertip. “What is it you've done here?”_ _

__“Some narrow fish tanks, just along the sides. Personally, I'd rather actually swim with them, but this has more applications.”_ _

__“Hm,” Winchester says, still studying the drawing. “And the maintenance on that?”_ _

__Dean shrugs. “Depends how you set it up. You pick the right fish and fauna, and it'll be mostly self-sustaining with a few nanobots for cleaning. The access is here --” he raises the diving board, showing the access area hidden in its base, “for water cycling, air and such. Direct access to the tank is wherever you want it around the top, but I'd put it just below the board, so people aren't walking on it constantly.”_ _

__“The fish wouldn't be disturbed by people banging on the sides as they swim?”_ _

__“Not with this aquarium glass, no. The older versions would have that problem, but they've got heavy dampeners in the most recent - it's great for tanks in public spaces.”_ _

__Winchester says nothing for long seconds, eyes focused thoughtfully on the design. Uncertainty flickers inside Dean, growing steadier the longer the silence draws out. He glances at the drawing, eyes catching on the imperfections._ _

__“It'd be pricey, though.” No longer able to tolerate it, he scraps the design, shutting down the display with a sharp gesture. “I was just playing around.”_ _

__That earns him Winchester's attention, the man's gaze sliding over to Dean and right to the heart of him._ _

__“House, open file Tellus-B,” The alpha commands. Dean gets the briefest glimpse of a ship's exterior before Winchester is flicking quickly through sections. He zooms in on what looks to be the bones of a sauna room._ _

__“Show me what you'd do here. It needs to fit ten to twelve comfortably and feel like a luxury, bespoke experience, but be as self-contained and efficient as possible.”_ _

__Dean blinks before he manages to process the request and leans forward to study the space._ _

__==_ _

__His place card puts Dean next to Alpha Winchester at dinner that night, Sam and Kevin across from him, Lafitte on his other side. It is a little amusing to see Raphael constantly having to lean forward and speak up to make himself heard from the far end of the table. Unsurprisingly, much of the conversation for the evening involves those who went on the wine tour recounting their day for the few who stayed behind._ _

__“You didn't wish to join us today, Omega Campbell? Do you have no interest in wines?”_ _

__“I'm sure growing up on a wager diet doesn't help develop the most refined palette.”_ _

__Dean narrows his eyes at Raphael, but ignores his comment to respond directly to Lafitte. “I enjoy wine, Alpha, though I have no particular interest in it. But I spent a very enjoyable day in the library.”_ _

__“He might have spent less time working and escaped for a few hours outdoors today if I had not kept him there.” Alpha Winchester says. “But in my defense, Omega Campbell has quite the talent in his field, and I could not help myself after seeing his work.”_ _

__Blushing at the praise, Dean gives a small, grateful smile to the alpha._ _

__“Dean was one of the top of our class,” Gabriel says, adding with a laugh, “He and Kevin worked harder than any of us.”_ _

__“Well of course, omegas must work harder to be on par with the inherent abilities of alphas.”_ _

__Setting down his wine glass, Crowley pierces Lucifer with a look. “Is that so?”_ _

__“Oh don't give me that look, Omega Crowley, it's merely biological fact. Alphas are naturally stronger, faster and smarter. Omegas are designed for taking care of the home and hearth.”_ _

__“I don't consider any of my omega counterparts less intelligent or capable than myself.” Sam declares, earning a small chorus of agreement from some of the others._ _

__Lucifer rolls his eyes. “There is no reason for omegas to attend university in the first place, when they cannot achieve the same as an alpha. Admitting them only consumes spots that could be better filled by alphas. Alphas hire them to sample the wares before mating, not on merit.”_ _

__“Lucifer!” Abelkill reproves._ _

__“Please, Cain, we all know it's true.”_ _

__“Omega Crowley's achievements would beg to differ.”_ _

__“And just look at what it has brought him. He has wealth, but had to sacrifice children and a mate just to get close to the same level of success as an alpha like our host, who mated and had a child.”_ _

__“I didn't _have_ to sacrifice anything you ignorant barnacle, I didn't _want_ an alpha or children.” Crowley snaps._ _

__“You see, too much education and work and we end up with aggressive omegas who act like alphas, denying the very things that make their sex valuable.”_ _

__“Alpha Milton.”_ _

__All heads turn at the low growl in Alpha Winchester's tone, the clear warning. Dean suspects they are all as surprised at the man's ire as he is, given his silence so far._ _

__“That is enough.”_ _

__“Are your beliefs so tenuous you can't stand to have them challenged, Winchester?”_ _

__“No, I simply prefer not to have half my guests insulted by a bore who can only see what he wishes to.”_ _

__“So you've no counter argu--”_ _

__“Oh, do shut up.”_ _

__There's a surprised snort from Crowley, and Dean's mouth drops open at the quiet, firm words from Castiel._ _

__“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer says, affronted._ _

__“Our host has informed you you're being insulting and asked you to cease. Decorum, if not common decency, dictates you do so.” Castiel answers, meeting Lucifer's challenging stare unblinking._ _

__“Very well,” Lucifer sniffs, “but you'll learn, Omega, that there is more to the world than the rules of polite society.”_ _

__There are long seconds of awkward silence before Balthazar and Gabriel pull them out, changing the topic without subtlety to upcoming films from Balthazar's studio._ _

__

__Chapter 6_ _

__“Good morning, Omega Campbell.”_ _

__Dean smiles as the alpha jogs up beside him on the drive. “Alpha, good morning. You know you needn't fear I'll run over one of your guests any longer, I managed yesterday with no injuries.”_ _

__“Perhaps it's me I should fear for.”_ _

__“Sorry?” Dean asks, unsure if he heard the words correctly._ _

__“Nothing. Do you object to the company?”_ _

__“Not at all!”_ _

__If Dean had had any concern that Winchester's presence would distract him from his run, they are put quickly to rest. They run in companionable silence, with only the occasional exchange._ _

__The chaperon guides them down a different trail than he's taken before. They pass Kevin and Sam near their halfway point, calling good mornings as they pass. Dean tosses Sam a smirk and Winchester catches the look, but says nothing until they are well out of earshot._ _

__“Was that a competitive streak I saw back there?”_ _

__“No,” Dean laughs. “Kevin's great, but he talks so much he slows himself and any partner down. Sam could run circles around him, but pretends he's slower. It's actually pretty sweet, but don't tell him I said that.”_ _

__“My lips are sealed.”_ _

__“Though I may be a little competitive, too.”_ _

__“Oh?” Winchester's lips twitch at the corners, even as he starts to pick up speed._ _

__Dean increases his pace to match, and before long they are racing through the woods._ _

__They burst back out onto the drive jockeying for position, all proper running form and pacing forgotten in the last sprint to the house._ _

__Touching down at the front steps first, Dean cries out in triumph, chest heaving with the exertion._ _

__“I,” Winchester says breathlessly, “am too old to be racing young omegas.” The muscles in his arm flex as he grips the stone railing._ _

__“Bah, I was barely a step ahead of you. You're just trying to trick me into a false sense of security for next time.”_ _

__“Can't fool you.” The alpha smiles._ _

__“Nope.” Dean pops the 'p'. “No use even trying.”_ _

__

__==_ _

__

__“The day is too beautiful to waste indoors, that is certain.”_ _

__Dean nods at Kevin's sentiment, rolling his eyes internally. It is at least the third time this morning the sentiment has been repeated. It's the reason they are here, walking out to spend the day by the pool._ _

__The group has spread out, following John's lead down one of the wooded paths._ _

__“You keep your pool quite a ways from the house, Sam. I can't say I approve of all this exercise we must do first.” Gabriel jokes, just a few steps ahead of them._ _

__Sam smiles, and Dean knows a tease is coming by the crook of his lips. “You're welcome to use the indoor pool if you prefer, but a little exercise would do you some good.”_ _

__“Oh!” Gabriel gasps. “I am wounded, truly.”_ _

__Kevin and he share amused looks at the familiar antics._ _

__Just a few minutes later they can hear the sound of water. Stepping out onto a small plateau, gathering with the others where the path opens up, Dean's breath leaves him._ _

__They stand on a ledge overlooking a stepped waterfall. Rough-hewn natural rock forms the sides of a crevice below, the sides draped here and there with moss. Directly opposite them is the start of the waterfall, dropping in three short falls from one small pool to another, then into the larger pool at the bottom. Dean can see smooth, flat rock at the bottom around the pool, ledges jutting into the shallows to form steps and benches in the water. Lounge chairs are set out on a small expanse of grass just below them._ _

__John leads them on around the side and down a set of stairs. They're directed to changing rooms built into the rock wall. Swimming clothes already delivered by the drones, they each step into the wooden cubicle displaying their name to change. Dean despises the tight omega swim suits. There is no difference in appearance between an alpha's chest and an omega's, save a little hair. Yet alphas are allowed to swim bare chested while omegas must wear the short sleeved wet suits for modesty's sake, despite that they leave little to the imagination._ _

__–--_ _

__Dean's skin is warm with the sun, water still pearled and dripping from his dip. He had spent much of the morning soaking in one of the small upper pools making pleasant conversation with Michael, Edlund, Abelkill and Lafitte. Everyone seems in a good mood, even Lucifer and Raphael have not been quite so prickly as usual. Their picnic was casual, easy, and Dean believes he has made a good impression on most of the party so far. If there is any complaint, it is the hungry gaze some of the alphas rest on he, Castiel, and Kevin Even Lafitte, who Dean hoped might take an omega intern without added expectations, has been caught eyeing his form._ _

__Dangling his legs in the water, Dean sits on one of the ledges in the shallows beside Castiel. The conversation progresses lazily, both of them content to sit in mostly silence. Ostensibly, they are watching Gabriel, Balthazar, Michael and Raphael play at some game in the water, but Dean has little interest in their cavorting._ _

__“Will you accept Michael?”_ _

__“What?” Dean asks, absently, his attention on the smaller pool above, where Lucifer, Sam and Kevin have been for some time now._ _

__“Will you accept Michael, when he proposes?”_ _

__“What are you talking about?” Confused, Dean looks at his friend._ _

__Castiel watches him curiously, head tilted. “You must have noticed his interest. He's going to offer for you, and soon I'd guess.”_ _

__“He barely knows me.” Dean glances out, watching Michael knock the small, inflated ball over to Gabriel with a shout. He makes a fine figure in his suit, all youthful lean muscle and grace, but Dean feels no desire for him._ _

__Shrugging, Cas looks out at the alphas. “Matings have been made on less.”_ _

__“I want a career, you know that.”_ _

__“You should consider it, it would be a good match. I'm certain he'd let you work. Isn't that better than interning with some alpha who expects access to more than your professional talents?”_ _

__“What's the difference, Cas? Selling yourself to a mate who acts like your employer, or an employer who expects you to mate? It's the same thing, and I don't want either! I just want to design, preferably without having to let some pervy alpha fuck me in exchange.”_ _

__At the rough language, Cas looks at him, his eyes wide. Dean thinks it is only Castiel's surprise at the vehemence of his response for long seconds before he realizes the look is not focused on him._ _

__Dread drops like a stone in his stomach, but he can't bring himself to turn around._ _

__“Well said, Omega Campbell, I couldn't agree more.” Omega Crowley walks around Dean, feet splashing in the shallow water, to settle on the ledge at Castiel's side._ _

__Dean slumps in relief, before stiffening again as someone else sits down beside him._ _

__“I feel I should object in defense of alpha kind,” Winchester says, and Dean closes his eyes in defeat._ _

__“Alpha, I am deeply sorry for my language, and my words.”_ _

__Winchester waves the apology off, the motion sending a spray of glittering water into the pool. “Don't apologize on my account. I assure you I've heard worse.”_ _

__“Don't apologize on _anyone's_ account.” Crowley says. “Besides, it was the most entertaining thing I've heard all morning.”_ _

__“Now that I take offense to. Here I have arranged a party of the wealthiest and most highly regarded members of our society and you call a bit of vulgarity the highlight.”_ _

__“Oh yes, cream of the crop.” Crowley drawls, eyeing the alphas in the pool._ _

__Dean follows his gaze and laughs. It would seem the game has devolved while they weren't paying attention, as the alphas are a chaos of splashing water and limbs, roughhousing like children._ _

__“Those are Sam's guests, not mine.” Winchester sniffs, straightening his back. Despite his age, he is still in fine form, broad chest firm with muscle._ _

__“As are we, Alpha.”_ _

__“How right you are, Omega Novak. Perhaps I should join them. I'd stand a better chance in that pack of young alphas than here with three cheeky omegas.”_ _

__But Winchester makes no move to leave._ _

__Castiel turns the topic to the newest trade agreement with the outer planets. Dean falls quiet as Cas and Crowley get into a lively debate on the potential effects, the conversation moving too far beyond his own knowledge or interest._ _

__“I believe you spoke once about our use of technology and nature, was this what you had in mind?” Winchester asks, voice low to not disturb the others._ _

__“Something like this, yes.”_ _

__“So you approve of it?”_ _

__Unsure what the curiously intent expression on the alpha's face means, Dean doesn't know how to respond. He bites his lip, looking out over the water. At a loss for whether he is being teased in some way, still smarting from his earlier embarrassment, he responds with raw honesty._ _

__“It is-- one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I don't know how anyone could _not_ approve.”_ _

__“Thank you, Omega Campbell.”_ _

__Something flushes hot through Dean. It's a little like embarrassment, a little like the trip of his heart when Sam smiles, but so much _more_. He has no idea what it is. What he does know is that after their time in the library yesterday and their run this morning, the alpha's words feel off at the edges._ _

__“Dean, please, Alpha.” It wavers, desperate sounding, so Dean buries it in humor. “I'm a guest in your home, I think you've the right to call me by my name.”_ _

__Winchester grins, easy and wide. “Dean. Then you must call me John.”_ _

__

__==_ _

__It's late, Dean should be getting to bed, but the lazy day has left him wide awake. Though his pajamas are not entirely proper attire for wandering about the house, Dean goes out anyway. He slips down the stairs, padding through the dimly lit atrium on silent, bare feet._ _

__There's still a light on in the library. Dean pushes the door open cautiously, but even as his eyes land on the figure by one of the tables, it turns._ _

__“Dean?”_ _

__“Sam? Sorry, I--”_ _

__“No, no it's fine. Come in. Scotch?”_ _

__Dean steps inside, watching as Sam pours himself a drink before he can respond. The decanter clinking against the glass' rim. “Yes, please. Are you okay?”_ _

__Sam laughs, a bitter, hollow thing. “Fine.”_ _

__He drains half his glass in one long swallow, setting it down with a sharp _thunk_ before refilling it and pouring Dean's. “Though if you asked my father, he'd tell you I'm being stupid and 'heading down the wrong path'.”_ _

__“What?” Accepting the glass, Dean leans against the table. “You've just graduated from the finest university in the system.”_ _

__“Yeah, well, you don't know my father. That's just _expected_. I told you how he was when I changed my focus. Like it was the end of the world that I didn't follow in his footsteps.”_ _

__Dean does remember, though he finds it difficult to image Alpha Winchester being as unreasonable as Sam had described, now that he has spent some time with the man. “What is it this time?”_ _

__Sam seems about to speak, but then turns his head away to stare into his glass. “Nothing. Nothing important anyway.”_ _

__“Sure.” Dean says, not buying that for a minute._ _

__“I'd rather not get into it. Can we talk about something else?”_ _

__“Of course, whatever you like.”_ _

__Sam leads them over to a pair of chairs. “We haven't spoken privately since you arrived, are you having a good time?”_ _

__“You know I am.”_ _

__“Tell me about it?” Sam laughs, “Come on, Dean, take my mind off my troubles!”_ _

__So Dean does. They speak for about an hour, about Dean's visit so far and then meaningless things. Sam's mood slowly evens, and he eventually stands to bid Dean good night, with a thanks for the company._ _

__Staying a little longer, Dean sips at his scotch contemplatively. Something had felt different about tonight, _Sam_ had seemed different. His first inclination is to blame it on Sam's mood, but if Dean is honest with himself, Sam is regularly brooding or irritated. _ _

__Dean blinks, realization lifting something in his chest. He enjoyed Sam's company, but his heart did not beat faster with every smile won. He did not feel a pang of jealousy at every fond mention of Kevin. The constant ache of longing is gone. It's a bit startling, this revelation, after so long he thought his heart well and truly lost._ _

__Setting his glass down, Dean stands to head back to bed._ _

__Just steps from the library door, in the dark of the portrait hall, someone grabs Dean from behind. His attacker clamps one hand around Dean's waist, the other over his mouth – stiffling his cry before it can get anywhere. Dean struggles, pulling against the alpha's hold, trying to yank the hand from his mouth even as he's drawn tight against a solid body._ _

__“Shh, my Pyrrhus, it's me.”_ _

__At the sound of the soft voice, masked as it was nights ago, Dean freezes. The hand over his mouth lifts, fingers tracing over his jaw before lowering to rest on his chest._ _

__“Helias?”_ _

__“You were expecting someone else?”_ _

__“I think it's clear I wasn't expecting anybody,” Dean snarks, irritated at being given a fright. He moves to turn, his hands going to the man's arm at his waist, but Helias tightens his hold._ _

__“Don't. Don't turn around. Can you do that for me?” His thumb brushes Dean's skin, caressing the curve of his wrist._ _

__Closing his eyes, Dean breathes deeply, thinking. His body relaxes almost against his will, settling against the alpha's. It feels familiar, safe, though Dean knows that's just an illusion, his body seeking comfort against the stress of late, but is he not allowed that? Is he not allowed some selfish moments of pleasure?_ _

__Dean nods._ _

__Helias kisses his neck, soft lips surrounded by the tickle of his beard. Hands on Dean's hips, he guides them to a console table against the wall._ _

__“Keep them there.” He says, placing Dean's hands on the cool wood._ _

__“And if I want to touch you, alpha?”_ _

__“Consider it punishment for the torture you have subjected me to these past days.” Helias runs his palms beneath Dean's shirt, up his sides and down his back, his strong palms gentle against Dean's skin._ _

__“Torture?” Dean sighs into the touch, unable to manage the affronted tone he was aiming for._ _

__Pushing up again, Helias lifts Dean's shirt up over his head, letting it slide down the omega's arms and baring him to the cool air. He seems unconcerned with the goosebumps that break across Dean's skin, hands returning to trace sweeping, soft patterns. He sounds distracted, contemplative when he answers. “I have been forced to watch you, but not touch. To be reminded constantly how your wet mouth felt, how tight you were round my fingers, and still keep my distance.”_ _

__His hands curve around Dean's body, sliding over his chest, pinching at his nipples as they pass._ _

__Almost without realizing it Dean begins to shift, a slow subtle thrust of his hips, body urging the alpha to do more. “I'm not convinced that qualifies as torture.”_ _

__“It does, sweet omega, trust me.” He leans over Dean, pressing kisses against his spine and nosing into the hair at the back of his neck while his fingers undo the string of his pajama pants._ _

__Dean stiffens a little when Helias pushes his pants and underwear down, fully exposing him. The alpha pauses, pressing one palm to Dean's stomach, body curled close around him._ _

__“I'm not going to fuck you,” he promises softly, stroking one hand over the curve of dean's ass when the omega relaxes. “Though I want to, very much.”_ _

__There's the sound of a zip being undone, and then Helias is pressing his cock, already stiff, between Dean's legs, high up so that he is right up against Dean's birthing hole and the base of his cock. “Press your thighs together, sweetheart.”_ _

__He sighs when Dean complies and reaches down, palming Dean's cock and beginning to stroke. His hips move in small circles, pushing his own cock between Dean's thighs. It feels a little strange, at first, but as Helias touches him, Dean grows slicker, his juices dripping down to coat the alpha's cock so that he glides between Dean's thighs with ease. He begins to thrust a little faster, with longer pulls, and Dean helps, moving his own hips. From where his head hangs down between his arms he's just able to see the tip of the alpha's cock when he thrusts forward. The rim catches, occasionally, on the edge of Dean's hole, and he moans at the thought of just how easy it would be for the alpha to slide inside him right now._ _

__He wants that, so badly. Dean flexes his thighs with every thrust, tips his hips so the alpha catches more frequently at his rim, making them both desperate. When Dean shakes his hand free of his shirt and reaches down, covering the alpha's hand against his cock, he knocks Dean's hand away with a growled, “I said don't move.”_ _

__In the next breath, he's lifting Dean up, right arm over Dean's chest to hold them close, left hand up, covering Dean's eyes as he pulls his head back to rest against the alpha's shoulder. He pushes them up against the table, thrusts short, fast, and hard, sucking wet, sloppy kisses against Dean's throat._ _

__“That's it, mark me” Reaching up he holds Helias' head against his throat, other hand reaching back to grip the alpha's hip. Dean's thighs bang against the table with every thrust, and it would hurt if he were not already so far gone._ _

__Helias groans, sucking at the skin of Dean's neck as his hips slam forward furiously. Dean can feel the blood pooling beneath his lips, just under the skin, and it sends him over the edge, cock spurting over the dark surface of the table and his shirt, hole spasoming around nothing._ _

__Grip tightening, Helias follows him over. His come coats the underside of Dean's cock, drips down his thighs. It's filthy, and incredibly good._ _

__Helias' hold goes slack, but he does not let go until they have both regained their breath. Siding from between Dean's thighs, he steps back and reaches down to draw Dean's pajama bottoms back up. Dean's thighs begin to hurt where the edge of the table was pressed and he starts to feel strange, like a doll being put away._ _

__“Close your eyes.”_ _

__“Are they closed?”_ _

__Dean nods, and immediately Helias' hands are turning him around. He feels the alpha's hand at his jaw, then the soft press of lips. He leans forward, letting the alpha take his weight, melting into the sensation of being held, so carefully, in strong arms._ _

__“Thank you. Don't--” Helias chokes on the word. “Don't open your eyes for a count of thirty.”_ _

__Then he's gone, leaving Dean with nothing but the sensation of open air in front of him and the sound of quickly retreating footsteps._ _

__But Dean honors his request, counting slowly to thirty – using the time to breathe deeply and not think, not want what can't be – before opening his eyes. He's greeted by the dark room, the lifeless portraits looking down. Dean looks to the table for his shirt, but it is gone too. His eyes move up, to the portrait of John Winchester, smirking at their antics._ _

__

__Chapter 7_ _

__“I've come for a rematch.”_ _

__Dean laughs, trotting down the front steps, loose limbed and relaxed. “Good morning, John.”_ _

__“Did you sleep well?” the alpha asks as they both move into a jog._ _

__“Incredibly, thank you. Now, what's this about a rematch?”_ _

__The days begin to follow a pattern. Each morning, he and John meet for their run. Once, they're joined by Alpha Angel, who is almost indecently eager to abandon them for Sam and Kevin as they pass on the trail, breathless and trying to hide it. The party decides on some whim over breakfast – the pool is a popular choice, though horseback riding is a close second – and spends much of the day engaged in it._ _

__Occasionally, Dean sneaks a few hours to himself, for reading or designing. _To himself_ is a bit of a misnomer, when the library is often populated with others from the party immersed in their own reading or work, and he is often joined by John. He can't complain; the alpha's engaging and always presents interesting challenges for Dean to work with. _ _

__Raphael and Lucifer remain predictably obnoxious, but are for the most part easily avoided. Though, Dean does not like the amount of time Sam spends with them._ _

__Helias does not visit him again. Even lingering in the library well past bedtime does not tempt him out. But, Alpha Lafitte is increasingly attentive to him, and Dean suspects it must be him. It might not be so bad, then, if Lafitte offered him a place._ _

__And then, one morning, Dean wakes to the message that John has been called away on business, and is not expected back for several days, possibly not even before their visit ends._ _

__His immediate disappointment is keen, but it only grows in the following few days. John's absence changes the whole dynamic of the group. As reserved as he was, often preferring to sit quietly back from group discussions, as the uncontested leader of the group, his very presence kept Lucifer and Raphael in check. Without him, they grow bolder with their views, stirring up arguments breakfast, lunch and dinner. The group divides, most of them eager to avoid the buffoons as much as possible. Sam remains stuck in the middle, trying to please and spend time with all. Dean feels for him, but grows frustrated by his refusal to outright chastise Lucifer for his sexist, offensive views. Even Kevin grows unhappy, quietly withdrawn and more often finding his way to Dean and Castiel's side than Sam's._ _

__

__==_ _

__Dean is reading in the atrium – the library currently occupied by a couple of certain someone's he'd rather avoid – late one afternoon. It's nice, with the sunlight from above and the soft sound of the fountain._ _

__“May I join you?”_ _

__“Michael,” Dean looks up, a little surprised to be drawn out of his story. “Of course.” He moves his feet, sitting more appropriately on the small bench and leaving room for the alpha to sit beside him._ _

__Michael says nothing for so long, merely sitting there watching the fountain, that Dean gives up and is about to open his book again when he finally speaks._ _

__“Dean.” He says, grabbing Dean's hand without ceremony. “Omega Campbell. I know we haven't known each other long, but you would do me a great honor by agreeing to be my mate.”_ _

__Dean blinks, at a loss for words by the abrupt proposal. Before he can form any kind of response, the alpha goes on._ _

__“I know you want to work, but I think you would find that once we have a pup or two, caring for them would be more, and more fulfilling, than any other kind of work you could hope for. I--”_ _

__“Michael!”_ _

__The alpha stops, watching Dean patiently with no indication that he's lost his mind._ _

__“I,” Dean searches, “I'm honored, thank you, but I must decline.”_ _

__“What?” Michael chuckles. “Dean, I don't think you understand, I'm not offering an internship, but a mating.”_ _

__“Yes, I understand, but no thank you.” Drawing his hand free, Dean grips his book tightly._ _

__“This. But. This would be a most advantageous match, Dean, I don't think you could hope to make a better one.”_ _

__“Well, thanks for that,” Dean says, a little miffed, “But we hardly know each other, Michael. Do you really think you could stand spending the rest of your life with me?”_ _

__“You're beautiful, and intelligent, I can find nothing objectionable in your character.”_ _

__Dean rolls his eyes, “But you don't _know_ me, or you'd realize I will never be happy just raising pups, and if you cared about me, you wouldn't expect me to. Beauty fades, and intelligence is all well and good in a mate, but it means little if you are fundamentally different.”_ _

__“And you believe we are.”_ _

__“I do. I'm sorry.”_ _

__“Well.” Michael says, gaze sliding around the atrium aimlessly before he straightens his back, familiar, cool refinement slipping into place. “Thank you for your time, Omega Campbell.”_ _

__Dean bows, but Michael is already striding away._ _

__A sound behind him startles Dean, making him stand and turn. “Who's there?”_ _

__Shamefaced, Omega Edlund and Alpha Lafitte step in from one of the side entrances, and it's clear they've heard the entire pitiful exchange._ _

__“I'm sorry, we didn't mean to listen in, but the sound. It, uh, carries.” Edlund stutters, eyes flickering between them._ _

__“Awesome.” Dean mutters, face burning._ _

__Lafitte says nothing, only the faint red tinge on his cheeks betraying his feelings. Dean watches him, wondering if his rejection of Michael will somehow color Lafitte's opinion of him._ _

__“I'm just... going to go...” Edlund trails off, searching for an ending, before nodding abruptly and turning on his heel to escape._ _

__“Can we talk, Omega Campbell?”_ _

__“Maybe not here.” Dean says, eyeing the open space distrustfully._ _

__“Maybe not.” Lafitte smiles, leading them out onto the patio. Neither says anything until they start descending the steps to the greenhouse._ _

__“Alpha Abelkill will likely offer you a place.”_ _

__In the daylight, the roses reveal themselves to be a deep purple, their velvety petals inviting Dean to pause and trail his fingers over them._ _

__“That would be generous of him.” Dean says carefully, not looking at the alpha._ _

__Lafitte nods. “And it's selfish of me to hope you'll turn him down, too.”_ _

__Glancing up, Dean searches the alpha's gaze. Has Lafitte led him here, so close to the site of that first night, to confess? “Selfish,” he prompts, “how so?”_ _

__“I've been alone a long time, cher, but I could see myself coming to love you.”_ _

__Lafitte's hand touches his, and Dean looks down. He feels frozen, heart beating wildly as he watches Lafitte's fingers trace over his exposed palm, moving down to brush tentatively over his wrist._ _

__“I didn't come here looking for a mate, but you--” Lafitte laughs a little at himself, making Dean realize just how close they are now. “You're beautiful, and we seem of like mind and temperament. Come and work with me. I won't hold you if you want to go, I won't fire you if we don't mate, I'm just asking you to give me a chance, let us see what might be.”_ _

__Lafitte's watches him, steadily, hopefully, fingers lingering against Dean's pulse still. “I'm not asking you to say now. Consider it, please, cher.”_ _

__Dean nods. He will. Lafitte's a good man. It's a good offer, and he could do a lot worse. Was he not just hoping for this?  
It's absurd that Dean doesn't accept right now – but there is a niggling voice inside, whispering that if this is his Helias, why does he not say so? And it _shouldn't matter_ but still it pulls at him, holding him back. _ _

__==_ _

__The bedroom door slides closed behind him and Dean sighs, reaching up immediately to pull off his coat and start undoing his vest. Dinner was exhausting. Dean had been seated between Raphael and Michael, making for awkward silence on one side and barbed sparring on the other. He and the other omegas had excused themselves after the meal, retiring to one of the lounges to play desultory card games and talk as little as possible. Tomorrow is their last day here, and Dean is, by turns, impatient to be out of Lucifer and Raphael's presence, and sad that he may not get to speak with John again before leaving._ _

__He tosses his coat on the bed, but it slides on the satiny comforter, slipping to the ground with a thump too loud for the garment alone. Dean picks it up, revealing a small white box done up with a black bow. There's no note. Undoing the bow, Dean lifts the top to reveal a folded slip of paper and a length of black silk. It doesn't click what it's meant for until he reads the note, which says only ' _Wear this, tonight – Helias'.__ _

__Smiling to himself, Dean sets the box and note carefully aside, lays the blindfold on the bed, and goes to shower. He washes himself thoroughly, going so far as to use the delicately spice scented lotion he saves for special occasions. After some internal debate, he pulls the silky, dark green underpants from the back of things and puts them on. There is no telling what may happen tomorrow, but like that night in the greenhouse, Dean knows what he wants to happen tonight._ _

__Tying the blindfold on carefully, Dean lays back on the bed and waits._ _

__And waits._ _

__And eventually falls asleep._ _

__He's awoken by the brush of fingers over his collarbone, where the faded mark Helias left last time is still barely visible._ _

__“I like it, too,” Dean whispers, when the alpha says nothing. “You could renew it, if you wanted.”_ _

__Fingers lift from his neck to tilt his chin up, guiding him into a kiss. It's softer, sweeter than anything they've shared before. Dean reaches up, drawing the alpha closer until he climbs onto the bed over him. He can feel the alpha is only in a soft shirt._ _

__“No suit for once. Does that mean I'll get to touch you this time?”_ _

__In response, the bed shifts, the alpha pulling out of Dean's reach. When he comes back, he lifts one of Dean's hands, placing it against his bare chest. Beneath the blindfold, Dean closes his eyes, lifting his other arm to touch too. His fingers curl in the sparse hair on Helias' chest, moving over well-defined pecs and down well-muscled arms. He traces back up, drawing Helias down to him for another kiss, even as he wraps his legs around the alpha's waist. They kiss, bodies rubbing slowly, unhurried._ _

__Helias moves, kissing down Dean's throat until he is sucking again over the mark._ _

__“Will you not speak tonight, alpha?” Dean queries, stroking through the alpha's short hair._ _

__He can feel it when Helias shakes his head no, something in Dean falling at the denial._ _

__“Why not?”_ _

__Taking one of his hands, Helias lifts it to run Dean's fingers behind his ear. It takes a couple of repetitions before Dean understands. There's no holo chip in place to mask his voice. “Why?”_ _

__But that Helias can't answer with simple gestures, and he only kisses Dean deeply in response. The alpha worships his body, caressing and kissing every exposed inch – sucking at his nipples till they are peaked and red, kissing the line of his hip bones, tracing the inner curve of his thighs..._ _

__Dean does his best to return the attentions, cursing again that he is finally allowed to touch but still cannot see. Finally, when they are both aching with want, the alpha lowers Dean's underwear and sits back again, the shuffling of fabric indicating he's removing his own pants too. When they press together, full body skin against skin for the first time, it ignites an urgency that has Dean curling his leg around Helias', trying to draw him inside._ _

__“Fuck me.” Dean breathes. “Don't knot me, know we can't, just fuck me. _Please_ alpha, ple--” _ _

__Helias cuts off his begging with a rough kiss. He reaches down, fingers tracing around Dean's hole carefully before sliding in, stretching him._ _

__“Already ready, so ready for you, alpha, please.”_ _

__Groaning deeply, Helias buries his face against Dean's neck. Dean feels him mouthing there, and it seems more like he is forming words than kisses against the skin there, but there is no sound. Before Dean can try to decipher them by shape alone, the alpha is sitting back, pushing Dean's knees back and positioning himself. He presses a hand to Dean's stomach, wordless warning, before beginning to push in._ _

__He's thick, so thick, and Dean arches his back, welcoming the slow stretch splitting him open. He can feel Helias just above him, watching avidly as he bottom's out, and grips the alpha's arms to ground himself._ _

__Bowing his head, Helias rests against Dean's breast, hot breath ghosting over his sternum, before he begins to thrust. He groans softly with every sharp thrust forward, and Dean holds back his own cries as long as possible so that he can catch the alpha's. But it quickly becomes too much, and before long they are both panting into each other's mouths, trading sloppy, half-formed kisses, hands gripping at hot, sweat-slick skin. Helias noses along his jaw, nipping at the flesh there before latching on, almost desperately, to Dean's mark._ _

__Dean comes, arching up into the alpha, grinding down against his cock, so perfect it's nearly peaceful, pleasure washing through him in a wave._ _

__Helias is close, too, Dean can feel it in the jagged tempo of his hips, and urges the alpha on with the breathless mantra, “mark me, mark me, mark me,” until a particularly hard thrust punches the wrong words out._ _

__“Mate me.” Dean's eyes fly open beneath the blindfold. Helias goes stiff above him, and for an endless second Dean is certain he will pull away and abandon Dean right there, but then he is groaning, thrusting gracelessly, and Dean realizes he's coming, filling Dean is burst after burst._ _

__When it is over, the alpha pulls out gently, collapsing to the side. Dean can feel a wet trail against his thigh. He traces it back to the alpha's cock, touching it gently and finding the half formed knot at the base, still pumping out come._ _

__“Alpha--” Dean whispers, but before he can figure out what he means to say next, Helias is drawing him forward. He kisses Dean, fingers trailing over the edges of the blindfold briefly before tucking Dean's head against his neck. They lie there, breathes steadying, then drawing slower, deeper, into sleep._ _

__When Dean jolts awake some unknown amount of time later, Helias' side of the bed is cold, and there is no answer when Dean calls out to him. He lifts the blindfold off, blinking in the dark room, before slumping back into the bed, fiercely ignoring the tears that well up. If he is crying, it is only from wearing the blindfold for so long, nothing more._ _

__

__Chapter 8_ _

__John returns at lunch the next day, already seated when the others walk in. He makes his apologies for having been called away, before quickly turning the conversation over to them by asking for a recounting of what he missed._ _

__When the others are diverted, Dean glances over and catches John already looking back. He gives the alpha a small smile, and though his lips do not move, Dean sees it returned in the alpha's eyes._ _

__The next moment, though, he is reminded of how soon he'll be leaving, and his good mood falls. Less than twenty four hours, barely enough time to say hello before they'll be saying goodbye._ _

__==_ _

__After lunch, Dean goes straight for the library. With the room to himself, he settles into a chair by the window to read. Nearly an hour later, carefully not thinking about if or when John might appear, he gets up. Deciding on a whim to see the room from a new angle, he climbs the circular staircase._ _

__It's as he's walking along the upper balcony that the door below bursts open._ _

__“If you despise him so much, why invite him here?” Sam says, nearly slamming the door closed behind him._ _

__John turns to face his son. “Some people you don't slight. I can't just--”_ _

__“Um.” Dean says, drawing their attention. He makes his way back to the stairs quickly. “Sorry, I'm sorry – I'll just --”_ _

__“No, Dean, stay.” John urges as Dean reaches the bottom. “Sam was just telling me he's thinking of taking a job with Alpha Milton.”_ _

__“Milton?” Dean scrunches up his nose. “That noxious egg?”_ _

__“Not you too!” Sam bursts, stepping away before swinging to face them. “Lucifer is highly intelligent. Just because you don't agree with his ideas --”_ _

__“Don't agree with him?” Dean asks incredulously. “Sam, the man thinks I shouldn't have been allowed an education!”_ _

__“That's not what he meant! He's just concerned about preserving our society, our way of life--”_ _

__“He's concerned about having to interact with omegas on equal footing!” Dean draws up in realization. “This! This was what you didn't want to tell me that night. You couldn't say it because you _knew_ it was wrong, Sam. You must know it's wrong!”_ _

__“It's not wrong, Dean!”_ _

__“It is wrong.” John answers, calmly._ _

__Sam sneers, expression so ugly for a second that Dean marvels at the transformation of his handsome face. “And that's another thing – why is he even in this discussion?” A sharp gesture at Dean. “It's not going to happen, Dad.”_ _

__“What are you talking about?” Dean asks, honestly lost now._ _

__“Oh, you didn't know? Dear old dad here wants us to mate.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

___“What?”_ John echoes, stepping forward._ _

__“Please. You seat him across from me at every meal, you show him your favor, it's hardly subtle!”_ _

__“Not everything is about you, you selfish, spoilt child.” John snarls. “I seated him next to _me._ I spend time with Dean because _I_ enjoy his company. He's talented. In fact, I just sent him an offer.”_ _

__“Right.” Sam huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Right. I should have realized.” He eyes Dean darkly before his gaze slides, snake-like, to John. “You know the only reason he cozied up to you is because I didn't want him.”_ _

__Dean gasps, feeling as if he's been gutted. His whole body goes cold and hot at once, anger and humiliation warring for dominance._ _

__“Get out of this room,” John growls, voice rough._ _

__Drawing himself up, Sam arches a brow at them. “Fine.” He turns neatly, striding to the door and not bothering to close it behind him._ _

__“I...” Dean says slowly, numb and needing any excuse to be out of this room, now, “I need to pack.”_ _

__“Dean?” The uncertainty in the alpha's voice stops him at the door. “This isn't the way I'd hoped to present it, but I meant what I said. You'd be an asset to Winchester lines and my offer stands. I sent the details just a bit ago.”_ _

__The words don't make much sense through the fog of shock in Dean's mind, but he responds on auto-pilot. “Thank you, alpha.”_ _

__By the time he reaches his room, Dean's thoughts aren't much clearer. He stares at his luggage, but can't bring himself to begin the methodical task of packing everything away. Instead, he tosses his fine coat to the ground, strips off the linen shirt beneath, the tailored trousers, and replaces them with his running clothes._ _

__He passes Kevin and Castiel in the sitting room, ignoring their curious stares._ _

__The moment Dean's foot hits the dirt he starts to breath a little easier. Setting a brutal pace, he runs, heedless of the high sun or the sweat beading on his skin. The ever-present chaperon trails behind him, no longer needed as a guide down the familiar trails._ _

__It feels good to not think, to only feel his body working, for a while. But eventually the haze in his mind begins to clear, and thoughts creep back._ _

__He should be furious – he _is_ furious – with Sam. And hurt, in a way he'd never thought Sam capable of. That Sam knew of his attraction, that he could ever entertain the idea Dean would pursue his father for want of him. It's... it's not the Sam he knows, or thought he knew. _ _

__At the reminder of John, the alpha's final words come back to him. He slows, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he started running. Just off the trail are one of the many outcroppings of granite, large and flat on one side. Dean climbs up, lying back on the unforgiving stone and staring up into the canopy of trees._ _

__“Chaperon. Play messages.”_ _

___You have messages from Alpha Winchester, Alpha Lafitte, and Alpha Abelkill. Do you have any preference for the order of playback?_ _ _

__“Play Lafitte's, then Abelkill's, then John's.”_ _

__Lafitte's message is a short plea not to forget his offer, and the soft affection in the man's voice makes Dean smile a little. What he has with Helias feels different from Dean's past lovers, but Dean can't base his entire future on it alone. And still too, that niggling voice whispers that something is _off_ ; why did Lafitte not just confess, why stay hidden? _ _

__Abelkill's is a bit of a surprise; an offer of an internship with him. Lafitte had mentioned he might offer, but Dean had no such certainty. The alpha has often been near Dean in their daily outings, sometimes attentive to Dean, but just as often cold and abrupt. His offer is fair, but without speaking in person, Dean has no idea if the man has any unstated expectations or not._ _

__John's offer is... everything. Had the possibility ever entered Dean's mind he he might have dared dream of it, but despite their hours together, it never had. Apparently, John had not been so blind. He's offering Dean the chance to travel with him, to help design their next model of ships._ _

___'I know,'_ the alpha says, _'that propriety says I should not speak of this.'__ _

__Dean's eyes snap to the chaperon._ _

___'But I feel, given your very... colorful... opinion on the matter, that I should make it clear. If you accept, I expect nothing but that you do the job well. And, perhaps, your continued friendship.'_ _ _

__Looking back to the sky, Dean feels a tear slip out, a snail's trial of cold at his temple. There's warmth in his chest for John, for offering everything Dean could have dared hope for. But how can he accept it? Sam will hate him. _More_ , he thinks, with a broken laugh into the silent wood. Sam will hate him _more._  
Does he care? If Sam's opinion of him is so low, so _wrong_ , what right does he have to Dean's consideration in the matter? _ _

__Dean spends a long time there in contemplation, thoughts going in circles as the rock grows steadily uncomfortable against his back. He watches the birds darting tree to tree above, their bodies neatly camouflaged beneath the ever-shifting gold and green of the leaves._ _

__“Chaperon. Draft message for Alpha Abelkill,” he says at last, decided._ _

__==_ _

__“I'd like to propose a toast.” Balthazar raises his glass, waiting for everyone at the table to follow suit. “To our hosts, in thanks for this delightful stay – for the good food, good entertainment, and good company. Cheers!”_ _

__“Cheers!” They chorus, glasses clinking. Echoes of thanks follow, John and Sam nodding politely._ _

__“Thank you,” Dean murmurs to John. Sam is deftly avoiding his eyes, and gives no indication that he's heard the comment._ _

__Beside Sam, Kevin shifts uncomfortably, glancing curiously between them._ _

__“I will be fortunate enough to continue in good company.” Gabriel announces. “Alpha Angel has kindly offered me an internship.”_ _

__Michael smiles. “Congratulations, that's wonderful.”_ _

__“Yes, congratulations, cousin. It seems both of us are fortunate. I've accepted a role with Omega Crowley myself.”_ _

__Dean's eyebrows raise at Castiel's announcement, but he gives a genuine smile and offers his own, quiet congratulations to his friend._ _

__The talk turns to everyone's plans for departure the next morning. Dean stays silent, listening with half an ear but keeping his eyes mostly on his plate. Most will be leaving before breakfast, so this is their last meal together._ _

__As everyone begins to head upstairs for the night, Dean falls in step beside Alpha Lafitte._ _

__“Alpha,” he says quietly, not wanting to be overheard. “I wanted to say thank you, in person, for your offer, and I'm sorry.”_ _

__“Ah, cher, no need to apologize to me.”_ _

__“Still.”_ _

__“Well. I doubt you'll need it, but if you change your mind, the offer's still good in my book.”_ _

__“You're too kind to me.”_ _

__“Me? No, I'm selfish.” Lafitte smiles, laughing at himself though Dean can see the shadow of regret in the corners of his eyes._ _

__He smiles back, warm and a little regretful himself. “Goodnight, alpha.”_ _

__

__==_ _

___Omega Campbell, Alpha Sam Winchester is requesting entry. Shall I admit him?_ _ _

__Closing his eyes, Dean leans his head back a moment. He doesn't want to deal with this right now._ _

___Omega Campbell, Alpha--_ _ _

__“Yes.” Dean sighs, shutting his book and setting it on the nightstand._ _

__He eyes the alpha warily as he enters, cataloging the bow of his neck, the way his lips press tight together._ _

__Sam paces a moment, running a hand through his hair._ _

__“Were you planning on saying something, or just wearing a hole in that nice rug?”_ _

__Stopping, Sam shoots him an irritated look, but sits on the small desk. He crosses his arms, wrinkling the fine fabric at his sleeves. “I'm sorry.”_ _

__“Are you?” Dean asks, not bothering to hide his doubt._ _

__“I am. I shouldn't have said what I did.”_ _

__“Why not? If that's what you think of me, I'd rather know.”_ _

__“It's not, I don't think that.”_ _

__Sitting up straighter against the headboard, he tugs his pajama top down. “You sure sounded like you did.”_ _

__“I didn't.” And there, at last, is the furrowed brow, the whining edge to Sam's voice that mean he's telling the truth. “I don't know what came over me. I was angry, and you and dad –“_ _

__“Yeah?” Dean lifts his chin, expectant._ _

__Hands pressed between his knees, Sam's leg jangles. “He acts like he'd rather have you for a son than me.”_ _

__“That's not true.”_ _

__“It is. He talks about you all the time, from the very beginning. Wouldn't shut up about that damn costume of yours. I did think he wanted us to mate, at first, but after what he said today – You know he won't let me join the business? Said I have to find my own way rather than be handed it!”_ _

__“We just met, and I'm not his kid, he's not responsible for me the way he is you.” Dean crosses his legs indian style, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees. “Would you have even wanted a place with Winchester?”_ _

__“That's not the point--”_ _

__“'Cause I seem to recall you switching focuses just to get _away_ from having to join the family business. Something about not wanting to be daddy's little project.”_ _

__“Can't you be on my side for once?”_ _

__“For once? Sam, I have always – always – been on your side.” Dean smacks his palm against the bed, though it only sinks into the soft comforter soundlessly. “I was so team Sam I was fucking blind with it, as you clearly knew. So don't you dare pretend otherwise!”_ _

__They lock eyes for a long moment before Sam bows his head, covering his face with his hands. “I'm an asshole,” he moans, hands sliding up and through his hair._ _

__“You kind of are.”_ _

__“Gee, thanks.”_ _

__“There's no merit in me lying to preserve your ego on this. I don't know what crap Lucifer has filled your head with, but the Sam I saw earlier? He's not my friend. That bullshit _hurt_ , Sam.”_ _

__“I know, I'm sorry.”_ _

__“Un hunh, Are you going to take the job with Lucifer?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__Dean arches an brow until Sam rolls his eyes._ _

__“Kevin might have had a few choice words about Lucifer too. He spent two hours arguing every one of Lucifer's stances with me. Then he made it quite clear that if I did take it, he'd have nothing more to do with me.”_ _

__“Knew I liked that kid.”_ _

__“Yeah.” Sam smiles, more to himself than Dean. “I do too.”_ _

__They both fall quiet, the barely mended remnants of their friendship still too weak for comfort._ _

__“You're not packed.”_ _

__Dean looks around the room noting, as Sam must have, his clothes still hanging in the open wardrobe, his toiletries still on the table. The obvious signs he has no plans on leaving. “Will that be a problem?”_ _

__“I... don't want it to be. You deserve to be successful, Dean, and if this is what you want, then part of me is truly happy for you. The other part of me is... being stupid, and I don't want it to get in the way of our friendship. I'm trying.”_ _

__“Okay.”_ _

__“Okay?”_ _

__Dean sighs. “Yeah, okay. I can live with that. I'm still going to call you out on your bullshit, though.”_ _

__“That's fair.” Sam stands up, moving to leave. Thanks, Dean.”_ _

__“Sam?” Dean blinks, stopping the alpha before the door can close behind him. “You said your dad talked about my costume, but he wasn't at the masque?”_ _

__“Oh, he was. He just didn't want anyone to know he was. Likes to see how people behave when they don't know he's there.” Sam smiles, tentatively teasing, “See? He's a jerk too.”_ _

__The door snicks closed, and Dean sits there, Sam's words reverberating in his head. John was at the ball._ _

__It has niggled at him all day, how exactly Helias got into his room last night. How he could have gotten around the security protocols that should have required Dean's permission for him to enter._ _

__Protocols that only the home owner would have permission to bypass._ _

__And John was at the ball._ _

__“That son of a bitch.”_ _

__Dean stands up, stuffing his feet into his slippers. “House. Where is that bastard?”_ _

___I'm sorry Omega Campbell, what 'bastard' do you mean?_ _ _

__“John.”_ _

___Alpha Winchester is in the greenhouse._ _ _

__“Of course he fucking is.” Dean mutters, grabbing his robe before slamming out of the room._ _

__He pays no heed to the cold night air, the pull of rough stone against his slippers, or the chaperon falling into place, thinking through all possible explanations as he makes his way outside, down to the greenhouse. He slips inside, retracing their path through the narrow rows from all those nights ago without a thought, until he stands again before the rest area._ _

__“Dean?” John looks up, smiling and rising from the bench. “I'm so pleased you acc--”_ _

__He trails off. Whether it is Dean's furious expression or that he is in his night clothes that tips John off something is not right, Dean neither knows nor cares._ _

__“You know, you could have just told me you didn't want me, that would have been fine.”_ _

__John's pupils go wide, and he steps forward. “What? Not want you, what are you talking about?”_ _

__“Don't bullshit me, _Helias_. I get it, you had your fun and you're done now. You could have just said so, I still would have accepted the job.”_ _

__By the time he finishes, John is shaking his head. “Stop. Dean stop, please.”_ _

__Dean lifts his chin, ready for John to try and deny it._ _

__In a move reminiscent of his son, John presses both hands over his face before running them back, through his hair. He looks at Dean, suddenly exhausted. “Will you sit down and we can discuss it?”_ _

__“I'd rather stand.”_ _

__“Dean, please.”_ _

__Dean huffs, but acquiesces, moving to sit at the far edge of the bench, the metal arm pressing into his side. John sits opposite him, and seeing him like this, Dean wonders how he ever could have missed that John was Helias._ _

__“You're upset.”_ _

__“Do you think I shouldn't be?”_ _

__“No, but I'm trying to understand why you are.”_ _

__“Isn't it obvious?”_ _

__“No, not really. I thought I was giving you what you wanted, Dean, a job with no additional expectations. Isn't that what you hoped for?”_ _

__Phrased like that, it sounds perfectly reasonable, and Dean begins to doubt himself, but clings to his anger anyway. “Yes, but you could have been open with me. You could have just told me it was you and still ended it when you wanted, I wouldn't have cared.”_ _

__John stares at him, studying him for so long that Dean looks away, traces the ironwork with his finger._ _

__“I didn't want to end it.”_ _

__“What?” Dean looks at the alpha, the tight knot of anger in his chest slackening._ _

__“I didn't want to end it.” Winchester looks down, laughing to himself a little before meeting Dean's eyes again. “At first, it was because of Sam. I didn't want things to be awkward. Gods, Dean, I never meant for it to be anything more than that first first night, even. But then you were there, funny and smart and kind, and I couldn't bring myself to stay away. You made it quite clear, though, that you didn't relish the idea of having to trade favors for a job. After that, I thought it best to stay anonymous and end it that last time. I didn't want you to think the offer was based on me wanting you.”_ _

__“But you do,” Dean says slowly, “want me?”_ _

__John glances away, and when he looks back, Dean can see all the raw desire laid out before the alpha speaks. “Very much.”_ _

__It breaks something open in Dean, fills him with a slow realization that sends a shiver over his skin. “I've been a fool,” he mutters to himself._ _

__“You haven't,” John looks pained now, leaning towards Dean as if to hold him before stopping himself. “If you want to back out, I won't hold you to the agreement. I'm sure Abelkill would still be happy to hire you on.”_ _

__“No – no. I was a fool. I should have realized it was you right away, but I didn't. Then I went and fell in love with you and didn't even realize it.”_ _

__“Dean?” Tentatively, as if he might have miss-heard, John slides closer. He touches Dean's neck, so lightly Dean almost thinks he's imagining it._ _

__“Alpha,” Dean answers, taking John's hand in his own and pressing it to his cheek. “Maybe we could modify our agreement slightly?”_ _

__John leans close, and when he speaks, Dean can feel the words formed against his lips. “We could, sweet omega, however you'd like.”_ _

__“Not much,” Dean breathes, pressing his mouth to John's in a chaste, stolen kiss between words, “just one word.”_ _

__“Say it,” both plea and command, John kisses him before Dean can answer, wrapping his arms around him._ _

__“Mate.”_ _

__The end._ _


End file.
